Along with the blue blood of the De Conde family (albeit blood slightly tainted with insanity, it was rumoured at the Court of France), I inherited many of his interests and loves. He had a passion for light and movement and their interaction. He loved candles and candlelight and he loved traditional prayer rugs. He was not Muslim and I do not know how much of the Qur'an he ever read or recited, if any, but he loved the symbolism as well as the incredible calligraphy that is associated with Islamic Art.
It was only in the past two decades that I began to believe in the concept of a permanent home for myself rather than a perpetual nomadic existence. Having a child contributed to the change. I then began to collect a few items with profound significance to me, even if I did not really have anywhere to place them or display them. Among the items I collected were a few prayer rugs.
Before I became disabled, I actually used some of my prayer rugs for the traditional Muslim prayers or salat. At the time, my daughter Freya was attending a parochial Roman Catholic school and I had many interesting dialogues with the Monsignor who was in charge of the parish. Unlike many of his brethren, he did not see that there was anything wrong with the practice of praying Salat AND attending Mass to take Holy Communion. We spoke of the ancient practice of the 'Hours' in Catholicism and how those prayers, set at specific times, were quite similar to Salat.
Unfortunately, his successor was more rigid and less charitable in nature and blasted me to Hell in no uncertain terms for daring to send my daughter both to Roman Catholic Church and School and to an Islamic Madrasah and Mosque. My poor child suffered quite a lot because of my desire to give her a wider view of the world than the narrow one afforded by parochial schools. She thanked me later, though, for giving her the ability and freedom to choose her own faith rather than forcefeeding her any specific creed.
In any case, it is the prayer rug and not my personal experience of crossing religious sabres with any priest that is the topic of this post.
The prayer rug probably is the origin of the legends about 'magic carpets' for it is indeed a magic carpet that acts as a ladder to heaven, allowing the worshipper the chance to gain 'nearness to God' or 'qurbatan ilallah' and possibly even a moment of true ecstacy. There is no need for any specific design, although Islamic art does not include the depiction of the human figure but relies upon abstract designs and symbolism. The latter can include animals as well as any scene from Nature. It is in the art of calligraphy, though, that Islamic Art truly excels.
As a left-handed writer, I never became truly adept at many of the Western Roman alphabets when I practiced calligraphy. Arabic, however, was a different kettle of fish, as it is written from right to left and suits a left-handed person perfectly. There are many different styles of classical Arabic lettering. I love the rounded forms of the Thuluth and Diwani scripts. The intricacy of the latter, in which letters are formed within the embrace of other letters, delights and fascinates the eye and aesthetic sense of some one who essentially is of a Baroque nature. Any one who has studied calligraphy without delving into Islamic lettering has missed a truly grand artistic tradition.
In Asia, the art of lettering was considered a form of meditation and worship, especially by Buddhists. I always found it so, whether I wrote in Arabic, English, Latin or in Runes. Shapes have their own power and significance irrespective of their significance in any alphabet. A meditation upon a single letter, symbol or word can be very fruitful in artistic and spiritual terms. For those who cannot sit still easily, the act of writing can be a method of relaxation and a conduit to the peace that may be elusive otherwise.
Prayer rugs often include calligraphy, whether it is simply the name of Allah or a verse from the Holy Qur'an. They often contain elements of traditional symbolism such as the mihrab, a niche or keyhole that in mosques indicates the direction of qibla (the direction in which one prays). Qibla is Mecca and worshippers at home will place their prayer rugs in the direction of Mecca as well.
When I made a study of traditional Arab embroidery, I discovered that the Palestinian thob or gown often had a mihrab on the qabbeh or 'breastplate'. The qabbeh protects the heart and it is fitting that it should be embroidered with a mihrab, even though the powers associated with the heart in Western culture are attributed instead to the liver in Arab culture.
Apart from the mihrab, the other symbols that always appealed most to me in prayer rugs were the Lamp and the Tree of Life. As some one who specialised in ancient Northern mythology, the Tree of Life is a central concept. Yggdrasil in Northern lore is the Tree that connects the Nine Worlds and is the Tree upon which the All-Father Odhinn hanged himself for nine nights and days in order to gain Wisdom and the Sight. The Tree of Life is the Ladder to Heaven in most cultures. Shamans in the North traditionally climbed a birch tree and created a platform near the top from which to 'journey' to other realms. The prayer rug is a less physically stressful method by which the same goal can be achieved.
The bottom rug is silk as well but was used rather extensively by its original owner as I could see the 'footprint' of both knees upon its surface where it had become rather worn through use. It has a common design that shows the interior and exterior of a mosque on the upper half and the mihrab on the lower half.
